Something Much Better
by RedPLG
Summary: The look on her face made him stop. He was at the heat of the moment, and the sheer frustration he has on this infuriating woman is pushing him on the verge of losing control. He might apparate away and give that sodding Weasley a good punch on the jaw. He had it coming for ages anyway.


So...this was originally a drabble which turned into a one-shot while I was typing it. And I can't think of anything else to say to you, my dear readers, so I wouldn't hinder you from reading this little fic. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>"You're not happy."<p>

"I'm perfectly fine, Draco," she sniffed, turning her back from the friend-enemy. For how many years? Fuck that, she has no idea, and she doesn't care anymore. All she wanted was to be left alone and wallow in her pit of self-pity and bitterness.

She heard him snort and she shot him a death glare which he gracefully ignored. "Yes, Granger. And I'm a Weasley," he muttered. What he saw on her face made him want to hit himself.

_Well done, Draco. Now she's starting another crying session because you're an insensitive blabbermouth. Brilliant, definitely brilliant._

"Look," he started, blew out some air and tried talking some sense into her again. "I know that this is difficult for you, but honestly, Granger, don't burden yourself—"

"I'm not—"Hermione objected but was also interrupted by the flaxen git that was, believe it or not, her confidant.

"Okay then, let me rephrase that for you. Don't imprison yourself with a relationship with a right and utter git that you're not happy with," he told her, arrogantly raising an eyebrow at her, challenging her to say that he was wrong.

But then to his dismay and irritation, she snorted back at him. "Says another right and utter git."

"Oh yes, very mature," taunted he.

Once again, she turned her back on him an went to her shoulder bag, stuffing it with the documents she had brought to his flat in an attempt to forget her rotten love life even just for a day whilst being productive. _Well so much for that_, she thought. _It was wishful thinking that he'd leave me alone with my problems for once._

"I know what you're thinking, Granger." His voice was tired, of work he brought home just like her, of her, she wouldn't want to know. She just shrugged and pretended she didn't hear him.

She heard him sigh once more. "I trust you. And I know you trust me as much as I do."

_Oh great, here comes the trust card again._

"Draco," she pleaded.

"No, Granger," he sternly said, and she knew that there was no other choice for her but to listen to him. She pursed her lips and plopped down on his white oak coffee table.

He mentally sighed, slightly relieved that at least she was ready to listen.

Back to the dreaded topic on hand though. Weasley. Draco would admit that he was a jerk at times—okay scratch that, he's a jerk most of the time—but Weasley? Weasley is one fine specimen of stupidity, insensitivity rolled in one. Oh wait, let's not forget that ginger head he had that never failed to annoy him. Seriously, what did Granger ever saw in him?

"It wouldn't take a pre-schooler to see that you're not happy with him. And it just confuses me to see that you try your hardest to salvage what's left of the excuse of a relationship you have with him. Can't you see that you'll be miserable in the end?"

All he got was silence, a stubborn brunette with her arms crossed over her chest, and eyes that refused to look at him. He fought the urge to groan, but did not keep himself from running his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. He squatted down in front of her.

"Let go of him, Granger," he softly said. "The Weasel wasn't worth it to start with anyway. Yes, he made you smile. Yes, he made you laugh before. But when was the last time you felt contentment? Does he give you time? Does he give you a comforting shoulder once in a while? Does he talk to you when he gets from work? Does he even take you for a date? I'll bet my whole inheritance, I know he doesn't. Heck, I'm more of a boyfriend than he is, and that's saying a lot!"

"He's not perfect," she murmured.

"Well, duh!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration as he rose to his feet. Strong grey eyes pierced through hers, and she all but wanted to cower in a corner, not of fear, no. But of something else. Shame, probably. It was a feeling she never felt in a very long time, and she hated it.

"Brightest witch of our age, and you don't see a worthless boyfriend when you see one? Fuck that, you have one, and you're okay with that? Some genius you are!"

Ouch. That stung. Okay, sod it. Everything he said had stung. And it hurts like a bitch.

The look on her face made him stop. He was at the heat of the moment, and the sheer frustration he has on this infuriating woman is pushing him on the verge of losing control. He might apparate away and give that sodding Weasley a good punch on the jaw. He had it coming for ages anyway.

But losing control was something Draco hated. Hermione was acting like a masochist, a martyr in the making. And he loathed what's happening, this situation he drove himself into. But what he hated more was seeing her like this, a mere breath away from falling apart.

Hermione Granger falling apart.

Fuck.

He released a breath he never knew he was holding and took a step towards her. He was, yet again, invading her personal bubble. But then, the lines between have already been blurred a long time ago.

"I know that you've known each other for almost half of your lives, and letting go would be awful. I know you'd probably be more depressed for a while. Yes, you'll miss him. But, Granger, it's inevitable."

Tears began pooling in her eyes and he got frustrated even more. He hated seeing girls cry. And what he hated more was seeing _her_ cry. "You should've done that a long time ago. You don't deserve this. You deserve far more than this," he whispered.

And the tears fell down her face. He stared at her and her big brown eyes. Those beautiful eyes that once had a twinkle of youth, joy and innocence.

Merlin help him, he told himself. And he took the last step that separated them, engulfing her in his arms in a warm, soothing, loving embrace she deserved for so long.

And he knew something ended, and something else began. Something promising. Something much, much better.

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><p>Gaaah! To think of it now, I'm not quite sure if this is an acceptable one-shot or what. Would you guys let me know what you think? Constructive criticism is very much appreciated for a frustrated writer like me :) Aaand, I have an upcoming practical exams that I should be preparing for. But then there are more important matters at the moment, like Dramione. *snickers* Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this.<p>

Reviews are love!

-PLGine


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